New Beginnings
by Claire Ville
Summary: Due to Max's dads job, her family is forced to move towns yet again. When an unfortunate accident takes place, will Max and her siblings ever restart their lives?
1. A 'Fantastic' Start to School

**Hello all!**

**This is probably my third MR story (I deleted the others xD) and I do hope you enjoy it. :)**

**No wings, no Flock. But I do hope you like it!**

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**~Claire  
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The worst thing about moving towns is settling into a new school.

The principal at 'Oakley High' had promised that it was one of the best school's around, and according to the website it was 'bully free', which my mother thought sounded promising. Ha!

The last school I'd been to had been adamant that it was smoke-free, bully-free, drug-free ... but everyone had done drugs, smoked and the younger kiddo's had been severely bet up by the jocks. I guess it was the circle of life, really.

Luckily Oakley didn't have a uniform - the only requirement was that girls wear clothes that don't reveal anything above knee-height. I doubted this rule was followed; I could already imagine the cheerleaders wearing their skimpy outfits that revealed half their stomachs and all of their thighs. That had been the case at my old school, anyway.

The requirement for clothes above knee-height certainly wasn't gonna be a problem for me. My usual attire consisted of black jeans, a t-shirt (generally a baggy one) and Converse shoes.

Today I'd decided to wear something a little different, however ... well, actually, Mum and my 6 year old sister, Angel, had threatened to stop baking cookies for me if I didn't change out of my 30 Seconds to Mars concert tee. Her cookies were, seriously, the best. It had been a tough decision, but in the end the promise of life-long cookies won out.

Instead of my usual outfit, I was clad in a plain white t-shirt (some things never change), a red and black checked top tied around my hips and a pair of blue jeans. Yes, blue. _Not_ black.

"You look cool, Max," Iggy, my annoyingly cheesy younger brother, grinned in my general direction.

"Haha, funny Ig. In case the small detail slipped your mind, you _are_ blind," I said, rolling my eyes, then forgetting he couldn't actually see my eyes. Doh. "I'm rolling my eyes, Ig."

"Well, I did hear Mum debating with you this morning. I heard the word 'cookie' mentioned numerous times ..." Iggy smiled. He was a notorious smart-ass.

"Alright, enough you two. Have a nice day," Mum told us. I'd only just realised that we had, in fact, just pulled up to The New School.

My eyes widened with disbelief. I'd told Mum over and over that she _had to drop us off at least twenty metres from school_! It's not that I didn't love her. Mum was awesome. But, when you start your first day at a new school, you do _not _want to be labelled a 'Mummy's girl', or whatever 'unique' names they had going here.

"Um," I muttered, climbing swiftly out the car, "bye."

Iggy, on the other hand, didn't mind much. In his words, "Chicks dig blind guys."

As Mum drove away, I assessed the school.

Big, green field. Concrete buildings. Lots of teenagers.

A shrill sound that could only be the bell rang as I made my way across the field.

I could feel people staring at me; probably whispering about 'the new girl'. It wasn't like I'd never been a new kid before, though. Jeb, my _beloved_ (note the sarcasm) father had to move a lot for his work. So, of course, the whole family had to move with him, too. Selfish, much? It wasn't like he was every home, anyway. I'm pretty sure he had been MIA during the whole move.

"Hey, wait up, Maxie," Iggy called, running randomly around the field behind me. He looked a bit spastic.

"Over here, Ig," I laughed, shaking my head, before he managed to crash into anyone. He instantly change direction and fell into step with me. I don't know how he does it.

"What class do you have first?" Ig asked, pulling his timetable expertly from his backpack. Sometimes I forgot he was blind.

"Maths," I groaned. "You?"

"Care to tell me?" Ig handed me his timetable.

"You've got English first."

"Great." Iggy said somewhat sarcastically. Being blind, it was hard for him to do a lot of paper work, but for some reason he was super smart anyway.

By the time I'd taken Ig to his class, it was already well past 9:00.

"Miss ... your late," the math teacher, an old dude who looked to be in his eighties, barked as I entered the maths class.

"Sorry, I had to, um, take my brother to class," I mumbled, standing awkwardly in the doorframe.

"What is he, five? This is a high school!"

"He's not five, but he _is_ blind," I shot back, pleased at the icy tone to my voice.

"Well, that's no excuse," the teacher told me sternly, then pointed to a spare desk in the corner. "Sit over there. I'm Mr Linfield, and you are Miss Maximum Ride, I'm assuming?"

"That would be me," I muttered as I took my seat. Beside me sat a cheerleader-type girl with her hair pulled into a high ponytail and a low-necked dress that only reached mid-thigh. That goes to show that _all_ high-schools are apparently the same. On my other side, a chubby-faced boy with nerdy glasses sat engrossed in a thick book. He reminded me of a mix between Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom. Yes, I had watched all the Harry Potter movies. No, I had most definitely not read the books.

"Alright, class, turn to page fifty-two of your textbooks," Mr Linfield instructed the class.

I didn't bother to inform him I had no textbook. I guess he'd figure it out when I didn't hand in any work at the end of the day.


	2. Stranger Danger

**New chapter! :)**

**Thanks to those who are reading this!**

**I'm sorry if it seems cliche; don't worry, it'll (hopefully) start getting a bit more unique later on. **

**Just getting the whole scene and plot set up first!**

**Enjoy~**

"Miss Ride, could I have your work, please?" Mr Linfield loomed over me, one eyebrow raised expectantly. I'd always wanted to do that. Raise one eyebrow, I mean. Not loom over someone; that's a tad creepy. "Miss Ride?"

"Um," I said awkwardly, realising I'd been engrossed in my thoughts and hadn't had time to come up with a witty comeback. I'd have to settle for the obvious, even if it was going to land me in detention. "I don't, uh, have a textbook." Wow. That was probably the first time my witty brain had failed to give me something good. I guess there's a first for everything.

"Why didn't you ask for one?" Mr Linfield demanded, shaking his head. The rest of the class had already escaped when the bell had rung, but, typically, I was caught out.

After twenty minutes of a boring lecture from Mr Linfield, I was heading for my second class, a detention slip in my pocket, which was English. Naturally, I as already fifteen minutes late. I seriously couldn't be bothered; I stood outside the English room debating. If I went in to class, I would most likely get another detention and I'd become severely bored. On the other hand, if I didn't go to class, I would probably get a trip to the principal's office, but I wouldn't be bored.

In the end, I went for the latter. Daddy Jeb would probably be moving us again, anywho, so what's the point being 'good'? I didn't give a crap if my record was bad. I planned to be a ninja in my future years. I didn't need to know how to read a book and use proper grammar and spelling to be a _ninja_.

I swiveled on the ball of my foot and retraced my steps; heading back towards the field, then the carpark, then I just kept walking aimlessly.

"Ditching, too, huh?" a male voice off to my right chuckled.

Not one to be snuck up on often, I wheeled around to face the offender. A boy around my age with black hair and equally black eyes stood, with an amused expression, with his hands in the pockets of his (black) jeans. I couldn't be bothered dealing with some emo guy who felt like 'chatting'.

I kept walking.

He followed.

After several minutes of him simply following after me (I could see his shadow; seriously, now I know what it feels like to be ghosted), I turned on him.

"What do you _want_?" I snapped, letting my anger out. I'd been hoping to lose the attitude on this walk. Instead it had simply gotten worse. I was angry—at Jeb for moving us here, at Mum for _allowing _him to move us here, and at Iggy, for always being the best student, the best child. And, now, I was angry at some random stranger who was stalking me.

"Nothing," the boy shrugged.

I wasn't scared of him—after all, I knew some kick-butt fighting moves—but he was seriously getting on my nerves.

"Didn't your mummy ever tell you _not to talk to strangers_?" I practically yelled, proceeding to continue walking down the street. Above, the clouds were looking stormy and dark. Perfect weather for my crappy mood.

"I'd like to point out that you're talking to me, too," the boy told me, smirking. "Seeya around, I guess."

And with that he simply wandered off down the street without another word. Some people are seriously strange; I silently prayed I wouldn't be seeing him in the near future.

Yet, for some reason, I couldn't help feeling just a little bit sad and empty. God. Since when did I become an emotion-freak?

_(Time Lapse to Evening)_

I quietly opened the door, and attempted to sneak inside. However, I was instantly stopped in my tracks.

"Maximum, where have you been?" a sharp voice asked. _Jeb_. He hovered in the doorway to the kitchen, wearing a business suit. _Now_ he decided to show up.

"Walking," I replied, trying to keep my cool. Jeb was a tough interrogator.

"Walking where, exactly? Where you with anyone?" his tone was stern and disapproving. Unfortunately, it didn't look as though Mum was near to save me.

"No, I wasn't with anyone. And just around the, um, neighbourhood," I mumbled. I glanced at the clock above the marble bench in the kitchen. 9:47. Seriously; it was early by my standards.

"You're grounded for a month. No computer, no parties, no visiting friends. Got it?" Jeb said. I restrained from laughing out loud, though barely. I didn't have any friends, the computer was boring (Jeb had thrown out Grand Theft Auto, claiming it was too violent. Instead he'd handed me some weird zoo thing. I was _not_ five years old) and parties? Yeah right.

"Whatever." I said under my breath as I escaped upstairs. The new house was fairly big—five bedrooms (one was converted to a study for Jeb), three bathrooms, two lounges and a kitchen. My room was medium sized, perfect to fit my sparse amount of furniture and belongings in.

On the furthermost wall, a large window allowed me to clamber onto the roof. It was rather peaceful sitting out there at midnight, when there wasn't a single sound except for, occasionally, the sound of a car driving slowly past. I liked it.

It was only ten pm, but I suddenly felt rather tired. Luckily, Jeb apparently hadn't gotten a call from the school about my only attending one class. I didn't really care, anyway.

Sleepily, I pulled back the navy duvet on my bed, peeled off my jersey and fell asleep almost instantly.


	3. The Zoo

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**~Claire  
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"MAX!"

The screaming voice of someone, who clearly wanted me to be moody and sleepy all day, awoke me.

"What?" I demanded, annoyed at being woken before lunchtime on a _Saturday._ Sheesh.

"It's 10:30!" Jeb told me from the doorframe, a frustrated expression on his face.

"Exactly!" I retorted, yanking the duvet cover over my head.

"Get up! We are going on a family outing in fifteen minutes. Get ready quickly," and with that lovely good morning, Jeb left, stomping down the hall in, I noted irritably, a manner similar to my own. Hold up - Jeb similar to _me?_ No way in hell would I let myself be compared to him.

Sighing, I forced myself to get out of bed, get changed, attempt to brush unruly hair and then go downstairs.

The smell of waffles _and_ cookies was overpowering.

"Hi Maxie," Angel, my little sister, chirped, wrapping her thin arms around me and beaming.

"Hey Ange."

"Daddie says we are going to the zoo!"

"Oh joy," I muttered. Angel gave me one last smile before retreating into her room.

"Max, waffle cookies over here!" I heard Mum call. Hungrily, I swivelled around to find a plate of steaming waffle cookies (yes, _waffle_ cookies) waiting for me. I grabbed the whole plate and quickly munched through them all.

"Max! That was a whole tray!" Mum exclaimed, but her mouth was quirked in a smile.

"Alright, let's go!" Jeb said, coming into the room wearing a pair of Ray Ban's. I fought back a laugh. Ancient dad's and Ray Ban's didn't really work together. "Where's Iggy?"

"Here," Iggy said, entering the room. Seriously, we'd barely been in this house for long but he already knew his way round as though we'd lived here forever.

_(Time lapse to zoo)_

"Maxie! Come, look," Angel dragged me over to a huge cage filled with trees and plants and stuff. So far we'd been at the zoo for, what, five minutes? And already I was bored.

"What am I looking at?" I sighed, craning my neck to look in every corner. The cage seemed pretty animal-free.

"Over, in the corner!" Angel pointed to the corner of the cage, where I could just make out the grey-white fur of what appeared to be a wolf hidden in the grass. I must admit, it was pretty cute.

I was just about to move closer when a voice behind me spoke.

"Pretty cool, huh?"

I turned around to find none other than the stalker guy I'd 'met' on my walk.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded.

"Chill out," he said, holding his arms up in mock surrender. "I _work_ here."

He pointed to a nametag that read 'Fang'. Strange name.

"Whatever," I muttered. "Angel, let's move on."

"No!" Angel cried, looking up at me with puppy dog eyes. "Please can we watch the wolf for a _little_ longer?"

She was a sucker for cute animals, as I'd found out last year when she'd insisted on 'adopting' a bird that had flown into our window. We kept the bird for four days, and during those four days it had done some pretty disgusting stuff in the lounge.

"Whatever, but not for long," I finally said. Fang was still lingering behind me. I felt uncomfortable, so I moved forward a few paces to stand beside Angel.

God. After five or so minutes he still hadn't moved. I swung around, and practically yelled, "What the hell do you want?"

However, I hadn't noticed a family who had come to admire the wolf from behind Angel and I. They looked at me strangely before hurrying away.

Behind _them_ was Fang, looking amused; the only emotion he seemed to show.

"What are you smirking at?" I snapped. "Come on, Angel, we're going."

"Who's that boy, Maxie?" Angel asked curiously as I—gently—yanked her away down the path. I could see the rest of the fam up ahead. Iggy looked a bit bored—after all, he couldn't see anything.

"Um, no one."

"How do you know him?" Angel sure was persistent.

"I don't, okay? He's just some random guy," I said, a little harsher than necessary.

Angel kept quiet after that.

"Ah, Max!" Mum smiled. "Come take a look at this!"

She pointed into yet another cage which held flocks of colourful birds. Sometimes I wished I was a bird—that I could fly. Then I could escape from … well, everything.

And so the rest of the day went by; be trudging along behind everyone else, not saying anything. Fortunately I didn't see 'Fang' again.

_(Time lapse to dinnertime)_

"Potatoes, Max?" Mum asked, offering me a bowl laden with roasted potatoes.

"Thanks," I murmured, taking the bowl and piling potatoes on top of my already full plate.

"Who was that boy you were talking to earlier, Max?" Jeb asked, acting as if he genuinely cared. He was a crap actor.

"Um, who?" I asked innocently.

"The boy. Black hair, zoo employee?" Jeb continued.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said.

"Hm."

"Thanks for dinner, I'm gonna finish it in my room," I said, quickly grabbing my plate and hurrying into my room.

I could just here Jeb saying, "She's acting strange."

As I got comfy on my bed and began digging into my food, I peered out the window. It had been raining earlier, when we were driving back from the zoo, but it had cleared up.

Across the street, I could see a boy with dark hair and clothes. He looked up, and I almost fell of my bed.

The boy was Fang.


	4. Freedom

**This one is a little longer - yay! :)**

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**Enjoy, and please review. You know you wanna! :D  
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**- Claire**

I woke up on Monday morning with an ache in my back—Angel had insisted on going 'hiking' on Sunday. It had been torturous. Hill after boring hill. I seriously have no clue why people do it as a hobby.

"Maximum, if you're not up in five minutes you'll be late!" I heard Jeb yell up the stairs. I could hear Iggy banging about in his room.

Absently, I chose my usual outfit from the wardrobe, trying not to dwell too much on the fact that Fang seemed to be stalking me.

First there'd been the incident when I was walking down the street. Then at the zoo. And now he was showing up outside my freaking house?

"Maximum!" Jeb shouted in his warning tone.

I shook my head in an attempt to clear away my thoughts as I trudged downstairs.

"You yelled?" I snapped at Jeb, raising my eyebrows.

"Don't speak to me like that, young lady," Jeb said icily. "I'm driving Angel to school, you and Iggy can walk."

"Where's Mum?" I honestly had no intention of walking, and Mum was the only one who could possibly drive me if good old Jeb wouldn't.

"She had an emergency she needed to be at the clinic for." Jeb said as he opened the door. "No misbehaving, and I better not get a call saying you've skipped school."

And with that he left.

"Where'd Dad go?" Iggy asked as he came down the stairs. Unlike me, he chose to call Jeb 'dad' despite the fact that he liked him just as little as I did.

"Taking Angel to school. Looks like we're walking."

"No ditching me this time. It's hard explaining to Mum why you haven't shown up at the end of school. I don't think she brought my excuse that you would be staying at school to finish up some work," Iggy said, annoyance in his tone.

"Whatever." I muttered, grabbing my pre-made sandwich from the counter, a banana and a handful of cookies. "Seeya."

"Hey! I haven't memorised the whole _neighbourhood_ yet! Do you want me to crash into an old lady crossing the street?"

_(Time lapse to school)_

"Are you a new student?" the teacher asked me as I entered the science room. He was young-ish, with thick black hair and a pale complexion. He looked slightly familiar, but for what reason I didn't know. The class was already full except for a couple of seats.

"Um, yeah … I started a few days ago. I'm Max," I mumbled.

"Okay, you can sit wherever you'd like," he smiled warmly. "I'm Mr Jefferson, by the way. I'm Nick Jefferson's father—you may or may not have met him."

Mr Jefferson shrugged, then continued on with his lesson. I had no clue who 'Nick Jefferson' was.

I took a seat at the back, beside a hard-out Goth and a boy with dark-blond hair and turquoise eyes.

Mr Jefferson began droning on about the periodic table. I tuned out after a while, and instead absently doodled on my newly acquired science book.

"Hey, I'm Dylan," the boy next to me whispered. I looked over to find him grinning at me.

I looked away, and heard him chuckling beneath his breath.

"I was wondering if—" he began, but was cut off by the door opening.

A plump office assistant poked her head in and whispered a few words to Mr Jefferson.

"Maximum Ride, please report to the office," Mr Jefferson announced after a whispered conversation with the office assistant.

Confused, I stood up, gathered my things and went for the door. Mr Jefferson gave me a sorry look as I left.

Maybe they'd found out about my skipping school. Biting my lip, I followed the assistant down the empty corridor until we got to the office.

"Maximum, I'm afraid to inform you that your mother has been in a car accident," the lady behind the office desk told me. My mouth opened, but I couldn't say anything. A million possibilities raced through my mind. Was she okay? Was she badly injured?

"Is she … okay?" I whispered hoarsely after a while of simply staring at the lady.

"…I'm sorry, Maximum, but your mother passed away in the accident."

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to battle against the oncoming flow of tears. All of a sudden I felt so empty and … alone. The office lady was talking, but I wasn't listening.

Slowly, I found my way to the cold linoleum floor, where I simply wept and wept uncontrollably. I'd never cried this much before—or at all, really.

Eventually Iggy showed up, and we simply sat there for what seemed like hours. The world went by in a blur—soon kids started pouring out from classes. I didn't care what they thought. I didn't reply to any of their questions.

"Max," Iggy quietly shook my awake. I hadn't realised I'd fallen asleep.

"Come on, Max, the school's shutting."

When I didn't move, Iggy sighed and, using strength I didn't know he had, lifted me from the ground.

"Are you alright, James?" somebody asked, using Iggy's real name—a name I hadn't heard in forever. The voice sounded like … Mr Jefferson. "Do you need help getting home?"

"Well …" Iggy's voice threatened tears. "M-mum was s-s-supposed to pick us up …"

I soon fell asleep again, and didn't wake for a while.

"Max, Max," a young voice crooned. Someone stroked my hair. My first thought was that it was Mum—maybe this had all been a dream—but when I forced my eyes open, I found Angel.

"It's okay, Maxie," Angel said, but I could see the tears rolling down her cheeks. She was trying so hard, it made me sad all over again. "Daddy is here."

"I don't want Jeb!" I yelled, coming to my sense. If Mum was … dead, I was not going to live with _Jeb._

"Maxie—"

"Where are we?" I demanded.

"Home," Angel whispered, looking a bit scared. I looked around. We were in Mum's room; on her bed.

"Angel, where is Jeb?" I asked, my voice softer. I noticed Iggy, lying on the end of the bed. He looked exhausted—his eyes were swollen and red.

"He's working," Angel said in a small voice. Of course. What a heartless, good for nothing—

"Max?" Iggy looked up, blinking several times. For the first time in ages, he looked young and vulnerable. And sad.

"We're leaving," I said decisively.

"L-leaving?" Angel's bottom lip trembled. "Where to?"

"I'm not sure, but we're getting out of here."

"Max, I'm not sure if that's such a good idea …" Iggy began, looking a bit hesitant. "Mr Jefferson said he could help us out. He drove us here, and he said he's happy to help with anything else."

"Look, you can stay here if you want, but I'm not staying with Jeb. He's out _working_ of all things, not even here to comfort us. What kind of a father is he?" My voice rose with every word.

"I'm coming," Angel said, wrapping her fragile little arm around mine. I smiled down at her, and wrapped her up in a hug. I was as close to a mother as she had now, and I had to act like it.

"I'm not sure about this, Max, but if you say so …" Iggy climbed off the bed and left the room. Moments later he returned clutching his wallet, which he handed to me.

Curiously, I took it and peered at the contents. My mouth dropped open; over $500 worth of notes had been jammed inside.

"That's what I earned mowing lawns last year," Iggy shrugged. In his other hand he held a backpack, which he held up. "I've put some basic essentials in here. You guys better get some clothes together."

Iggy put on a brave face.

In a daze, I led Angel to her room. It all seemed like a dream as I packed in her favourite clothes, toys and a couple of books.

Then on to my room. I packed only a few t-shirts and jeans; I wouldn't need much. I met Angel and Iggy back in Mum's room. On her dresser was the picture that had been taken two years ago—me, Mum, Iggy and Angel. Just the four of us, looking as happy as ever.

I reached over and grabbed it, and stowed it away in my bag.

"Alright guys, let's go," I said, surprised that I was able to keep my voice steady.

I wasn't sure where we were going, but I knew we had to leave.

With a silent goodbye, I pushed open the front door and lead Iggy and Angel—to freedom.


	5. Unexpected Visit

**Hello everyone!**

**Sorry for the late update.**

**I'd like to thank everyone who's been reading this :) I really appreciate it!**

**zammielicious98 - Sorry if it seems as though I'm taking things a little bit too fast; I like to get into the action quickly. xD I promise I'll try slow it all a bit down, and kinda of develop some of my own characters more. Thanks for reviewing and reading!**

** lovehurts62598 - I've always thought of Jeb as, well, mean, so I guess that's just how I portray him in my FanFiction's. Also because Max doesn't like him, so yeah. Thanks for the review. :)**

**Random Dude At Your Service - Haha, thanks for the reviews Claire. :P I'll try add some humour in :)**

**Also thanks to everyone else for reading and being supportive :D  
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**~Claire**

"Okay, so if we walk this way … we should arrive," I said, surveying the map in my hands. To put it bluntly (and truthfully) I sucked at reading maps.

"You sure?" Iggy asked dubiously. He didn't trust my mapping skills any more than I did.

Already I'd received six calls from Jeb and ten texts. In all of them he yelled at me, called me an idiot and said my mother wouldn't approve. I'd deleted the texts, hung up on his calls and not even listened to the voice messages.

"Umm, yep, positive," I shrugged, leading Angel by the hand down the street. Iggy followed, listening to our footsteps to determine where we walked.

The city was bustling with all sorts of people; old lady's walking along hand in hand with their reluctant grandsons (seriously, I had a _lot_ of sympathy for them—my grandmother took me everywhere by the hand), groups of slurring, hung-over teens, suited business men with shiny briefcases.

"Uh, Max?" Iggy said after a while.

"What?" I snapped, not meaning to sound as harsh as I did. I guess Ig was used to it, though, 'cause he didn't react.

"I think we missed the turn-off …"

"No, we didn't—" I stopped talking mid-sentence when I realised that _yes_ we had past the turn-off. "Oh."

Ig smirked as we swivelled around, headed back down the street, then took a right down a somewhat deserted alleyway. Actually, it wasn't as foreboding as an alleyway. It was kinda like a little street off another street.

All the houses were identical. Quaint, white things with pink or blue doors and window frames. Absolutely _charming_.

At the end of the street I could see a huge sign that read 'HOTEL'. Our destination.

I hadn't planned on staying in a hotel; I'd thought we could go camping or something, but Angel had complained about us not having a tent. Who says you need a tent to camp? In the end, majority had won out. And, as Iggy reminded me, the money was his.

"Told you so …" Iggy chuckled, obviously as I touched his arm, signalling him to stop. Seriously, I had no clue how he _knew _we had missed the turn off, and how he knew we were now standing in front of the hotel.

"Whatever," I muttered, surveying what would be our living quarters for the next few days. It matched the rest of the houses perfectly—it was large and white, with a baby blue door and a huge garden of white roses out the front. A 'welcome' sign was tacked on the door, and through the window I could see a reception desk.

"Come on, guys," I said, nudging Angel forward.

As we entered the hotel, I was overwhelmed by a mixed scent of flower, old people and mint.

The interior of the hotel was entirely decked out in all things floral. Seriously. Old grannies had obviously designed the place. The wallpaper was all pink flowers, the carpet was pink, all the chairs had floral covers.

"Hello, dear," the receptionist called across the room. She sat at an oak desk—the only thing not flowery or pink. However, she herself was a plump middle-aged woman wearing a flowing dress covered with—you guessed it—flowers.

"Um, hi," I said awkwardly, moving forward towards the desk. "I made a reservation by phone earlier. Under the name Maximum?"

"Ah, yes," the receptionist smiled. "Is your mother or father about?"

"Uh, nope. Just us."

"Oh, um, okay then …" the woman said, looking a bit uncomfortable. Luckily, she handed over the key without asking for ID or anything.

"Your room is just up the stairs. Number 4. Enjoy your stay!"

I gave her a vague smile—don't ask me why, but she seemed a little … dodgy. Yes. I know. An old lady dodgy? Whatever, it wasn't like I was gonna grin at her manically like Angel and Iggy were.

I shook my head and lead the troop up the stairs. There were only five doors; rooms 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5. Just as I pushed the key into the lock on our door, a young boy a few years older than Angel came barrelling out the door marked '3'.

The boy had blonde hair and startlingly blue eyes. He stood staring at us for a second or two. While we stared back. A total awkward moment, if you ask me.

"Hi," the boy said sceptically, frowning at us for a moment before smiling. The door he'd just come out of soon opened up and out came a girl around the age of ten or eleven. She had mocha-coloured skin and bouncy brown hair adorned with bows. As soon as she saw us she beamed.

"Hello! My name is Monique, and as you can see we are staying here, too! This is my brother, Gazzy. Well, I'm adopted, so he's kinda my brother, I guess. He's nine years old, and I'm eleven. What are your names? How long are you staying for? Maybe we could hang out some time!" The African-American girl named Monique stopped talking only when the younger boy, Gazzy, tugged on her sleeve. She blushed, but didn't stop smiling.

I never knew someone could talk so much.

"Um, hi," I mumbled, not really sure what to say. "My—"

"My names Angela, but everyone calls me Angel," Angel piped up, smiling almost as widely as Monique and Gazzy. "This is Max, my sister, and Iggy! He's blind, but you can barely tell."

Iggy gave a wave in their general direction and offered a small smile.

"Well, we better, uh, get settled. See you around," I said, ushering Angel and Iggy into our room.

The scent in the room was much more overpowering than the scent in the lobby. It smelt mainly of _flowers_ in the room. Ugh. I'd definitely have to buy some sort of 'get rid of flowery smell' perfume. If that even existed.

"Why couldn't we talk to them for longer?" Angel complained, pouting.

I sighed. "Because."

Feeling tired, I collapsed on one of the two double beds in the room. There was a boxy television in the corner of the room, mounted on the wall, and a small, creamy-pink coloured coffee table sat in front of a predictably floral-patterned couch. A tiny tiled area barely passed as a kitchen.

It wasn't ideal. But it would have to do.

"What are we going to do now?" Angel asked, climbing onto the bed beside me and snuggling up. She had deposited her backpack on the floor, where Iggy still stood.

"Not sure," I said. I felt stupid. Why had we even done this? I'd basically just kidnapped my siblings, even though they'd agreed to come … but still.

"I think we ought to go out," Iggy said decisively. "You know. Shopping. For food, and clothes maybe."

"Clothes shopping?" I groaned. Angel giggled.

"Yep," Iggy smirked. He knew how much I loathed clothes shopping. Especially when I went with Angel. And when I went with Mum.

The memories brought tears to my eyes, but I pushed them back. Mum wouldn't want us _crying_ about her death. No. She would want us to be happy, and remember the good times with her while _smiling_.

"Okay, team, let's go," I said. We gathered our things—Iggy emptied some of his backpack and popped a few snacks in it from the mini-refrigerator in the kitchen, and Angel and I left behind our backpacks but took our jackets—and headed for the door, just as a loud knock echoed through the room.

Raising an eyebrow, I cracked open the door to reveal …

Monique and Gazzy.

Both of them had tears streaming down their faces … and enormous bruises blossoming on their cheeks.

Angel gasped.

"What's wrong?" I asked, crouching down to their height. Okay, so I might have had a little soft spot for young kids.

"D—d—d …" Gazzy spluttered, wrapping his arms around Monique's waist. Both of them were tall for their ages, so my crouching down made me shorter than them.

I looked up to Monique, hoping that maybe she could manage to tell me what was up. I was a bit worried. I mean, I didn't even know these kids, but they were only young and both had huge bruises on their cheeks? Something was up. I didn't even want to think about what had happened.

"O-our father …" Monique said before she began weeping. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me.

I took Gazzy by the hand and led them both into the safety of our hotel room. I wouldn't let anyone hurt these innocent kids—they seemed like family to me, even though I'd just met them five minutes ago.

"Angel, close the door. We're not going anywhere yet."


	6. Relocating

**Sorry for not updating in ages!**

**Let me know how you like this chapter :)**

**As you'll probably be able to tell, I've begun introducing some more of the actual Maximum Ride characters.**

**DISCLAIMER: yep, I'm no James Patterson, unfortunately!**

**Read and review, please! :D**

"So, kids, tell me what's up," I said, seating Gazzy and Monique on one of our beds. I sounded like some kind of counsellor. I can assure you my advice is far from counsellor-quality, however.

"Our father," Monique said, wiping her eyes. "He … well, he … our mother left when we were young. Since then, Dad has been a bit, well, off the rails, I guess. Lately he's been …"

Monique burst into tears before she could finish, but I got the gist of what she was saying.

An abusive dad, I guess. Well, I suppose I couldn't complain about Jeb that much. Jeb wasn't Mr. Nice Guy, but he certainly didn't hit us. God, if he did, _he'd_ be the one in hospital after I'd finished with him.

"It's okay," I crooned, wrapping them both in a hug. Iggy and Angel just looked on with open mouths.

"Shut your traps," I snapped at Iggy and Angel. They looked bewildered that I was offering sympathy to anyone, let alone two little kids I'd only just met.

Just then a sharp knocking sounded on the door.

Monique and Gazzy instantly froze, jumped off my lap and hid behind the bed.

"Well, okay then," I muttered, making my way over to the door. Unfortunately, there was no peep hole. I loved looking out those things, mainly because they made people look all distorted.

I grasped the door knob and yanked open the door, ready to jump into a fighting stance. However, standing behind the door was the old receptionist lady. I breathed a sigh of relief, and I heard Monique and Gazzy do the same.

"Hello, dear. I was just wondering if your parents would be here soon? I'm closing up downstairs for my lunch break, and I'd hate for them to have to wait outside until I got back …" the lady explained, smiling.

Parents? I thought we made it clear from the beginning that it was only just us.

"Sorry, no such luck. Our parents aren't coming," I told her.

"But … well, I'm afraid we can't accommodate you, unless one of you is at the age of 18?"

Oh crap. Now where the heck were we supposed to go?

"I'm sorry, it's hotel policy. I'll give you a few moments to pack your stuff, thanks, otherwise I may have to notify the police."

"Alright, alright," I snapped, slamming the door in her face. "Okay, kids, let's get moving."

"Where are we going now, Maxie?" Angel piped up, looking worried.

"I have no clue," I said, rubbing my forehead. I barely managed to supress the urge to yell out a string of choice swear words.

"We should go to Mr Jefferson's place!" Iggy suggested brightly.

"Uh, no. I don't want to rely on the help of a _teacher_," I said.

"Aw, come on Max. He's a _nice_ teacher, and he offered to help."

"Fine," I decided, sighing. "But only because we have to, not because we want to, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," Iggy muttered.

"C-can we come?" Monique asked in a small voice, looking up at me pleadingly.

"Of course, sweetie," I smiled, pulling her in for a hug.

Several hours and numerous bus rides later, we found ourselves standing in front of Mr Jefferson's house. He's given Ig his address that night at school.

"Here goes," I muttered, walking up the pathway to the front door. The house was a huge two-storeyed home with relatively old-fashioned doors and windows, but somehow the place still looked modern. A magnificent garden laden with daffodils, roses and all types of flowers was situated beside the garage, where I imagined a flash car sat waiting for Mr Jefferson's ride to work in the morning.

It was approximately four in the afternoon, so hopefully Mr Jefferson would be home.

I pressed the doorbell as the rest of my little 'entourage' lined up behind me. I could hear the ringing echoing throughout the house.

After a while, when I'd almost decided we should leave, the door swung open. A miniature version of Mr Jefferson stood at the door, wearing nothing but a towel around his lower half.

"Crap," the boy said, his pale skin turning a shade of pink. He slammed the door shut.

"Okay then," I said. "That was nice. Maybe we got the wrong house."

"I'm pretty sure that's Mr Jefferson's son …"

As I ushered the others away from their house, feeling a bit intrusive and rude, I heard the door reopen.

"Max? Iggy?" a voice called.

I swivelled around to find none other than Mr Jefferson.

"Sorry about that. He was expecting his mother, my wife … uh, anyway, please, come in!"

Mr Jefferson welcomed us with a big smile.

"Thanks," I mumbled. This was more awkward than I'd imagined. "Sorry, we, uh, picked up a couple kids on the way …"

"Not a problem, I'm more than happy to help, Max," Mr Jefferson said.

The inside of the house was all soft colours; cream, beige, light blue. The furnishing were all modern—the room we stood in was what I assumed was a lounge. A couch sat a metre or so in front of a wide-screened television, and a couple of bookshelves sat beside a floor-to-ceiling window.

"That was my son, Fang, by the way," Mr Jefferson informed us, as he gestured to the couch for us to seat down. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"Er, well …" I began.

"We just got kicked out of a hotel for not being over the age of eighteen, we picked up these two and we have nowhere to go," Iggy put in helpfully.

"Right." Mr Jefferson nodded. "And who are these two?" He smiled kindly at Monique and Gazzy.

"I'm Monique, and this is my brother. Um, well sort of brother. I'm adopted," Monique said tentatively.

"And will you all be staying with us?"

"Only if that's alright with you, sir," Angel said.

Mr Jefferson chuckled. "Call me Paul, kids. I assume you are Angela, Max and Iggy's sister?"

"Yes, but you can call me Angel."

"That's a very fitting nickname," Paul smiled. A shrill ringing erupted from the pocket of his jeans. "Oops, sorry, I'll just take this … hello? Ah, hello Susanne … what? Really? I don't think they want to … yes, but … no! Susanne, you don't understand … hello? Are you there?"

Paul glared at his phone. "Stupid connection," he muttered. "Um, bad news, kids."

"What?" I asked wearily, not sure I could bear any more bad news.

"That was Susanne, from school. Apparently your father is looking for you. He's gone around asking the school and all teachers. He's coming here next."

I gulped.

"Crap," Iggy said, wording my exact thoughts.


	7. The Viper

**Because it's the holidays, I've managed to finish a new chapter. :)**

**Thanks to Random Dude's suggestion, I'm trying to speed a couple things up that I had in mind. I'm also trying to get across the character's personalities a little more, as well as introducing more MRide characters.**

**SO, enjoy! :)**

**~Claire**

"How does Daddy know where you live?" Angel asked curiously. She seemed relatively calm, and I envied her for that.

"I'm not really sure if he does, sweetie," Paul said, shrugging. He was basically the epitome of nice—I didn't know a single person who would allow a bunch of homeless kids to crash in their home. Especially in such a posh home as Paul had. The one thing that was making me feel uneasy (aside from the whole Jeb thing, obviously) was Paul's wife coming home. What if she didn't approve of us intruding like this?

In other circumstances, I really wouldn't give a damn. But now, well, it seemed … different. And the image of Paul's son, Fang (yes, _the_ Fang, from the zoo. And from outside my window. Boy was he shocked to see _me _at his front door) in a towel kept replaying over in my head.

What was wrong with me? Worrying about what other people thought and fantasising about some boy's abs? This was a new personal low.

"Alright, kids," Paul announced, "we have a few options." He ran a hand through his impossibly black hair. His eyes were also dark, which kinda contradicted his kind-natured persona. "Either you go with your father—Jeb—or I, well this could get me in trouble, but I can talk to Jeb about, well, everything."

"Everything?" I asked, confused.

"Yes. Iggy told me a lot of things," Paul explained, slightly tentatively.

"What?" Iggy had told him a lot of things? What things?

"Um, nothing," Iggy said hastily. "Can we possibly get something to eat?"

The mention of food made my stomach grumble with hunger, and I was all too eager to get something into my stomach. But what had Paul meant?

"Food!" Gazzy squealed, shooting up from his position on the couch. Angel and Monique, who had been chatting endlessly about clothes (ugh), followed suit.

"I'm starving!" Angel announced, rubbing her stomach.

"Okay, it's about dinner time anyway," Paul laughed, standing up and heading towards the kitchen.

Half an hour and three heaped bowls of pasta later, I stood up and asked, "Can I have some more?"

"Sure, Max, help yourself. There's plenty left," Paul smiled. Apparently he did that a lot. Smiled, I mean.

We had all been seated in the lounge watching a vaguely interesting football match. The only interesting thing had been when somebody was carried off the pitch after a blow to the head. I'd had to stifle a laugh at that point. What? The guy had been okay … well, minor concussion, but whatever. I'd been amused at least.

Fang had come down just before dinner, and my heart had done a little skip. Weird. Anyway, turns out Paul has another kid, too.

13 year old Ella was extremely bubbly and out-going. She, too, was kind-natured, and had been all too happy to meet us all. Her, Monique and Angel had been playing dress-ups for the past twenty minutes. And they kept coming out to show us their new creations. Not that anyone really cared.

"Maxie!" Angel exclaimed, standing in front of me and grinning. She wore a long pink dress that was at least three sizes too big, and a pink tutu. On her feet she wore a pair of large, plastic stiletto's. Her hair was laden with sparkly hair clips and bows. The pink-osity was overwhelming, yet she looked so cute.

"Hey, Ange," I said. "Don't you look cute."

She giggled, again showing how calm and relaxed she was, as she and the creators of her outfit flounced off to lounge. The way Angel wobbled around in the heels made it look like she was about to topple over.

So far, Jeb hadn't showed up. I was picking that he didn't know where Paul lived; and, anyway, I doubt he would actually come around to _all_ the teachers' houses. That'd be kinda stupid, but I guess everything he did _was_ stupid, so it wouldn't surprise me.

I was lost in my own little world when Fang came into the kitchen. I hastily filled my bowl with steaming pasta as he waited in line, bowl at the ready. The tension was awkward. And when I say awkward, I mean _awkward._

Fang, as I'd found out, was a man of little words. Aside from the 'crap' he'd muttered when we'd first shown up, he hadn't uttered a single word in my presence. He was also highly skilled at hiding his emotions. It was impossible to tell whether he was annoyed, happy, amused, bored etc etc. It was almost as if he blended in with his surroundings; he was _that_ quiet.

"You finished?" Fang talking took me so off-guard that I dropped the serving spoon on the floor. I felt my cheeks flush—okay, something was up. Me, Maximum Ride, just _blushed_?

Fang leant down to pick the spoon up, cocking one eyebrow upwards.

"Sorry," I mumbled, grabbing my plate and heading, fast, towards the lounge.

"Wait—uh, Max," Fang called after me. I turned around, half expecting him to crack up laughing at me.

"Yeah?"

"I—I'm sorry about your Mum," Fang mumbled, looking into the pasta pot. And that's when I saw it—a flash of, hold up, was that _sympathy_? In an instant he was back to his normal expression as he spooned pasta into his bowl, looking everywhere but at me.

"Uh, thanks, Fang," I said, slipping through the door into the lounge.

Everybody but Paul had cleared out. The television had been flicked off.

"He lost his mother too, you know," Paul told me, biting his lip.

"What? You said that your wife was his Mum?" I said, confused.

"Step-mother." Paul shrugged. "Anyway, his mother died when he was only young."

"Oh, I'm sorry …"

"Everyone else has gone off to sleep. Would you mind sleeping here? I'd offer you one of the other rooms, but Iggy and Gazzy have the spare room and Ella, Monique and Angel are sleeping out in Ella's room."

"I'll be alright here," I said. "Thanks for everything."

I hoped I sounded at least a little sincere. Thank-you's had never been my strong point.

"That's quite alright, Max." Paul smiled. "Good night, sleep well."

_[Time lapse to morning]_

"What are we doing today?" Monique asked as she wolfed down her serving of pancakes. Paul had gone off to work—his wife had showed up in the middle of the night and had left early in the morning, so we hadn't met her yet.

Apparently Fang had a day off to study for upcoming exams (God I was pleased to be missing those), so we hadn't seen him yet. I suspected he was still sleeping. Unfortunately, I hadn't had the luxury of a sleep in. Angel had woken me at the crack of dawn—well, eight o'clock. But it was still too early for my liking.

"Not sure," I shrugged. "Probably just hanging around."

"Can't we do something fun?" Gazzy pleaded. He and Iggy had already hit it off—apparently they both had a love of all things explosive and fire-related. "I heard there's a firework display just out of town this evening!"

"We might have to skip that one, Gazzy …" I laughed.

Paul had left a note stating that Jeb was still 'looking for us'. I didn't care, and he hadn't found us here yet, so I wasn't counting on it happening anytime soon. I was just ready to start a new life.

"Maxie, could we go to a theme park?" Angel asked, her eyes alight. She loved theme parks—last time we'd gone, a few years back, she had been obsessed with the carousel ride. And I was the one who'd had to accompany her _every_ time.

"Uh …" I wasn't keen on the idea.

"Yes! Theme park!" Monique squealed.

"Totally!" Gazzy and Iggy yelled in unison. Why was it that I was always outnumbered?

"Theme park it is," I sighed.

_[Time lapse to theme park]_

"Carousel!" Angel exclaimed, tugging on my sleeve. "Can we go, Maxie? Please?"

"Monique, can you take Angel?" I asked, looking pleadingly over at Monique, who was staring open-mouthed at all the rides. She and Gazzy had never been to a theme park before, as I'd found out. Something about their father hating crowds.

"Yes!" Monique smiled, took Angel's hand, and they were off, just like that. Funny how easy it was to entertain little kids.

"Gaz, let's go to the Mountain of Terror!" Iggy grinned devilishly. Apparently he'd heard about it on t.v. I could just see him planning in his head a way to dismantle the ride.

"Oh my God, yes, yes, yes!" Gazzy looked over at me, and I rolled my eyes and nodded. Boys will be boys, I guess.

That left me and Fang. He had eventually woken up just as we were leaving, and Gazzy and Iggy had asked if he wanted to come. Fang had agreed, exams forgotten, I guess. Trust me; it was hard finding a taxi for all six of us.

"I'm thinking of going on The Viper," I told Fang. "Wanna come?"

The Viper was, apparently, the fastest rollercoaster at the theme park. And it looked pretty darn awesome. Some of the drops were even more vertical than the Mountain of Terror, and it was said to last under ten seconds. I felt like I needed an adrenaline rush; and this was sure to be it, no doubt.

Fang shrugged. I took that as a yes.

The line was metres long, and I honestly couldn't be bothered waiting that long. I edged into the line so that we would be only a few people away from getting in a coaster. I started chatting to a couple of the people there, pretending I knew them. They were confused, but it shut the rest of the people up, who would have otherwise complained.

"Smooth," Fang smirked, raising an eyebrow like he'd done the night before. I returned a half-smile.

I had to admit it—he looked good today. He'd opted to wear a pair of black skinny jeans (surprise, surprise—I gathered his whole wardrobe consisted of black), a black graphic tee and a pair of black Converse shoes. His hair was messy and verging on long in length, but it suited him.

"Next," the ride operator yelled, ushering us through a door. We were the last two to go through, into a dark room. Lights on the floor allowed us a bit of light so we could actually see where the rollercoaster was. It was a small thing that could only hold ten people. The sides were painted pink and green, with the words 'THE VIPER—BE AFRAID' written in graffiti-style on the side.

"Please climb aboard The Viper and pull the safety bar over your lap." a robotic voice echoed around the room.

Fang and I hopped in the back, pulled the safety bar over our laps and waited. The bar didn't seem all that safe, considering it only rested across our laps, but nobody had died so far so I assumed it was somewhat safe.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1," the voice counted down, and then a siren blasted as the ride took off. The thing was so fast I felt as though my skin was going to peel off. It felt like I was in one of those cartoons where people's skin goes all flappy and their eyeballs pop out.

I managed a glance over at Fang; he looked pretty bewildered, and I had to laugh at his expression. His hair was flying out in all directions.

He heard my laughter, glanced across at me and smirked again. Apparently I looked pretty funny, too.

All in all, the ride seemed to last about two seconds, so it seemed. Everything was spinning as I stepped out and wobbled around on my feet. Almost everyone on board looked pretty queasy—one guy looked as though he were about to puke.

"That—was—horrifyingly—fast," I wheezed as we stepped out of the building.

"That was epic," Fang said. "What next?"

**Please tell me what you think in a review :D**


	8. Here's Where Things Get Messy

**New chapter, yay :D**

**Please feel free to give me any suggestions that you may have - I'm more than open to feedback.**

**Much like my good real life friend, Blue Songbirds (check her story out-it's epic!) does, I'm going to start asking all my readers questions at the end, for you to answer in a review or PM :)**

**So, enjoy, and please review/favourite/put on alert! It really means a lot to me to know that people are reading this!  
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**~Claire**

"Max? Fang? Is that you?" a familiar voice called as we stepped through the front door of Paul's house with Iggy, Gazzy, Monique and Angel in tow.

"Hey, Dad," Fang answered, shrugging off his black jacket. In the kitchen, Paul stood at the stove, stirring a big pot of carrots. Feeding the lot of us required a _lot_ of food, especially with me around.

"Where have you been?" Paul asked. He didn't say it a demanding or worried tone—he seemed genuinely interested in what we'd been up to.

"Theme park!" Gazzy exclaimed, rushing forward to inspect the oven. "Mmm, chicken!"

Of course, there was also Gazzy and Iggy to remember. They ate almost as much as I did. Which is saying a lot.

"Did you all have fun?"

"Yes!" we all chorused, grinning. Well, Fang wasn't grinning as much. But I saw at least a hint of a smile. Even that was a challenge.

"I've been thinking about the sleeping arrangements, and we can't really have you sleeping in the lounge again, Max. It must have been quite uncomfortable on that old couch," Paul said. "So, I was—"

I was about to protest that the couch was, actually, entirely comfortable and I didn't mind, even though I'd had a sore back the whole day, when Fang spoke up.

"She can sleep in my room," he said. Everyone went quiet. I thought I might have been dreaming—had Fang really just said that _I_ could sleep in _his_ room?

"Er, well …" Paul mumbled, trying to string a sentence together. I myself was speechless. "I suppose, if you don't mind. You'll have to bring the spare mattress up from the garage, however."

Fang merely nodded, then wandered off towards the garage.

"Paul?" Gazzy asked hesitantly after a few moments.

"Yes?"

"Do you think that maybe me and Iggy could, uh, go to the firework display tonight?"

"Fireworks? I haven't been to a firework display in years! Sounds like good fun," Paul smiled as he chopped up some potatoes and threw them in another pot. "Maybe we could all go?"

Iggy and Gazzy grinned at each other. I've said it before and I'll say it again—boys _will_ be boys. However, the fireworks sounded pretty cool. I suppose I was a boy at heart. Maybe that's what I was supposed to be—a _boy_. The whole girl thing had obviously gone through one ear and out the other. Pink repulsed me, I was into black, skirts annoyed me and I preferred to wear sweatpants. Typical girl behaviour? I think not.

Angel and Monique soon raced up the stairs, saying something about going to see Ella in her room. 'Dress-ups' was my immediate assumption of what they were going to do.

"I better, uh, go help Fang," I said, heading off towards the garage, which was situated at the side of the house. I wasn't entirely sure what Paul seemed to think of Fang offering for me to sleep in his room, but I could imagine he was a little uncomfortable with it. Just a little.

"Fang?" I called into the darkness of the garage. Either they hadn't invested in lights, or Fang preferred the dark. I was putting my money on the latter.

"Over here," came the muffled reply of Fang. I fumbled around, searching for a light switch on the wall, but found none. Okay then, no light-engulfed garage for me—creepy, dark garage it was.

Carefully, with my hands stretched out in front of me, I made my through the garage. I felt along the side of a sleek car—trying not to touch it too much—then tripped over what seemed to be a lawnmower until I crashed into something tall, hard and—_wait_.

"Uh, you okay?" Fang asked, grabbing my shoulders to stop my toppling over. If that didn't boost the awkward tension that already hung between us, I'm not sure what would.

"Um, yep. Got the mattress?"

"Uh-huh."

"Why aren't there any lights in this place?" I asked, taking the back end of the mattress and lifting it up.

"There are." Fang said simply as we hoisted the mattress up the flight of stairs that led to his room. His room had originally been an attic, but Paul had told me that Fang needed 'his own space', so they'd transformed it from an attic into a bedroom.

All the walls in the room were black, and there was only one, tiny window, which had a black sheet drawn across it, acting as a curtain. An unmade double bed occupied barely a tenth of the room, which probably gives an idea of how large the attic-turned-bedroom was. A wooden desk topped with an old computer was located at the end of the bed, but aside from that the room was basically empty. Well, except for the clothing that was strewn across the carpet. Actually, I wasn't even sure if it _was_ carpet—beneath the clothes it was impossible to tell.

Fang cleared enough room for the mattress to fit in the corner on the complete opposite side of the room from his bed.

"I—I'll, uh, get some sheets for you," Fang said, heading back towards the door.

"Hey, Fang?" I called. He looked back expectantly. "Thanks. For letting me sleep in your room."

Fang shrugged and continued down the staircase. Moments later he was back with an armful of sheets and a navy duvet.

I expected him to leave me with the task of making the bed myself, but, surprisingly, he helped me put the sheets and duvet on until I had a comfy looking bed, that hopefully wouldn't give me a sore back like the couch had.

"Thanks," I murmured. "But, if—"

"Max! Fang! Dinnertime!" Ella yelled, poking her head round the corner. She had a slight amused smile on her face. Fang's glare instantly made her mouth go slack.

The smell of roast chicken instantly overwhelmed me. It smelt absolutely _delicious_.

"Mhmm, smells good, Paul," I said as I took a seat beside Angel at the dinner table. Angel was wearing—no surprise—another interesting outfit that Monique and Ella had obviously created. She wore what appeared to be a hula skirt and a pair of overalls. Her face was plastered in eye shadow, blush and mascara. And they weren't all applied where they were supposed to be, either. Don't get the idea that I was in to make-up—I'd used Mum's for Halloween on several occasions. My stomach instantly flip-flopped at the thought of Mum.

"Thank you, Max," Paul beamed. "Did you get the bed all set up?"

"Yep, it's all ready to go."

"Excellent," Paul nodded. There was a contented silence as everyone eagerly munched down the much anticipated roast. In addition to smelling great, it also tasted great. I could practically hear my stomach screaming with joy. I hadn't tasted something so good in a while.

"I'll get it," Paul announced when the shrill ringing of the doorbell sounded. "Probably Brigid …"

I assumed Brigid was his wife. I was a little nervous. Had Paul managed to explain our … situation to his wife yet? Why was I worrying so much? Surely she was as nice as Paul … which is, to say, _very _nice.

I strained my ears, to see if I could hear anything that Brigid might say about, well, us. All I could hear was Paul's voice, and another quieter voice, that sounded almost male. Well, I wasn't one to judge—I had a relatively deep voice compared to Angel. Okay, she was younger, but. Paul obviously hadn't let the visitor inside the house yet. Was it Brigid? Maybe Brigid was someone else—i.e. _not _his wife.

"Is Brigid your stepmother?" I asked Fang curiously.

"Yep," Ella answered for him. I liked Ella—she'd obviously inherited her kind-natured personality from Paul, and she was also funny. The only thing I wasn't keen on was her overwhelmingly girly nature, but I guess everyone has flaws. Well, that was a flaw to me, anyway. "She's alright. But that _doesn't _sound like her at the door."

Ella gave a little laugh, and I forced myself to return a small smile, when, really, my heart was beating at a million miles an hour.

What if it was _Jeb_ at the door? Iggy had stopped chatting to Gazzy, and Angel's eyes were wide. They both looked petrified, as I could imagine I did. I tried to mask my emotions, to reassure Ig and Angel, but I was no master. Maybe I could get lessons from Fang …

"Uh, what's wrong?" Fang asked, looking at me across the table. He looked _worried. _Maybe he wasn't so hard to read, after all. Well, not to me, anyway. I tried to snap myself out of my daze.

"Um—" I began, but I was interrupted by a loud voice.

"Where the _hell_ are my children?" The voice was, unmistakably, Jeb's.

I instantly shot up off my chair. Angel burst into tears, and Iggy turned pale. I put my arm around Angel and whispered to her, "It'll be okay, sweetie."

"I—don't—want—to—go—home," she sobbed, wrapping her fragile arms around my neck and burying her face in my hair. I had been considering the fact that I might have been over exaggerating the whole 'hate Jeb' thing, but Iggy, Angel and I were genuinely _happy_ without him.

"Me neither."

"They aren't here!" I heard Paul saying somewhat calmly. He sounded as though he were about to lose his cool and start yelling, though.

"Is that your father?" Monique asked in a small voice, looking sympathetic. She and Gazzy were lucky—there had been no news of _their_ father trying to find _them_. In Monique's words, he didn't care at all about his them, in fact, they were simply a nuisance.

"Yes," Angel managed to whisper.

"Maybe we should get you into bed," I said to Angel, wiping away her tears. "Ella, would you mind taking her?"

"No, not at all," Ella said, smiling kindly as she took Angel's hand and coaxed her off the chair, careful not to disturb the crown embedded in Angel's golden locks. Monique abruptly got off her chair, too, and took Angel's other hand.

"Iggy?" He'd been silent the whole time.

"I—I think it's time I went to bed, too." Iggy muttered. He abandoned his half-eaten dinner and, without another word, wandered away down the hall towards the spare room.

"Good night, Max, Fang," Gazzy said as he, too, left for the comfort of his bed. As they all left, I heard the front door slam shut. I expected Paul to emerge from the entranceway, but he didn't. Maybe he'd gone outside to deal with Jeb.

"Well … uh, do you want to go to bed, too?" Fang asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I guess." I scooted back my chair, glad Fang hadn't asked for any kind of explanation. He probably would eventually, but maybe by then I'd actually have something rehearsed.

Up in Fang's room, I peeled off my jersey and, without bothering to change into pyjama's, collapsed on my ready-made bed. I'd figured Fang might stay downstairs, but he entered the room not long after I had.

From my angle on the bed, he looked even better looking than he had earlier. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans (apparently this was his style) and his fringe covered his eyes slightly. I instantly looked away when his eyes met mine.

"So, I guess because you complained about the lack of lights, you want to keep this one on?" Fang asked, smirking.

I rolled my eyes. "You can turn it off."

He did so, and then proceeded over to his bed. The moonlight outside shone through the curtain, illuminating the room and making it look as though it were daytime. Which gave me enough light to watch Fang as he pulled off his t-shirt. Again, I got a glimpse of his bare-chest, except this time he wasn't watching me watching him, so I didn't feel too awkward staring.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Fang said, barely loud enough for me to hear. I hadn't realised that he'd already climbed into his bed and I was still staring at his half-exposed chest, which was, for the record, extremely generously muscled.

I instantly looked away, feeling my cheeks heat up—not for the first time that week. I snuck another quick look at Fang, to see if he was angry, but he was, in fact, smiling. Quite a lot. Actually, it looked as though he was _grinning_. Even _I_ don't grin much.

"You're actually smiling," I thought. Oops—did I just say that out loud? Again I felt my cheeks heating up. Sometimes I wished I could rewind time. Go back and do something again. But I guess only Phil of The Future and his family could do that.

"It is possible." Fang replied, sticking to his 'less than two sentences in one go' policy.

"Goodnight, Fang."

"Night, Max."

Just as I felt ready to fall asleep, a sudden outcry of raised voices alerted me. I shot up in my bed, but Fang was already at the door.

"I think it's Dad," he murmured, peering down the staircase. He looked back at me. "Stay here."

His expression told me to do as he said, but I couldn't protest as he was already half way down the stairs by the time I'd found my voice.

Call me stubborn, but I threw back the duvet, jumped up and was down the stairs in two seconds.

The front door was open wide, and I could just see Fang's bare back a few metres away.

I skidded across the kitchen floor, into the entranceway and surveyed the situation. Alongside Fang I could see the shadow of Paul—and then another, slightly larger yet shorter, shadow.

_Jeb._

I knew it was him. There was no doubt. As I hurried forward, my bare feet numbing against the cold paving stones outside, I noticed that Jeb wasn't alone.

Grouped around him, almost as though he was there leader, were at least three solidly built men, all of which sported disgusting beards and crooked teeth. _Not_ a good look.

I wasn't quite in Jeb's line of sight yet, but from my position I could clearly see him and his 'groupies'.

Knowing Jeb, he'd probably gone and gotten himself in some sort of a 'gang'. Though there was, of course, the problem that he wasn't tough himself. I supposed he just hid behind those who could actually throw a decent punch.

A quick fact about me—I did _not_ learn my fighting skills from my father. Nope, that's all thanks to the good ol' internet.

"What the _hell_ do you want?" I yelled at Jeb, emerging from behind the bush I'd been hiding behind.

"_You_," Jeb snarled, glaring at me. Another quick fact—I did not learn how to glare from Jeb. My glare was much more deathly. And self-taught.

"Hello, _Daddy_," I said, scowling something chronic.

Fang looked back at me, and mouthed, "Get back inside!"

"No freakin' way," I mouthed back at him, adding in a glare that bet Jeb's by miles.

"You little lying, cheating, _horrible_ little girl, I'm going to—" Jeb roared, but Paul quickly cut him off.

"Excuse me, Jeb, but as you can see, Max and the rest of your children are fine without you," Paul intervened.

"Well, we'll see about that." Jeb smirked and nodded to one of the burly men next to him.

A man, with a shaven head, a leather jacket and big black combat boots that I'd die for produced a serrated knife from his pocket.

"Here's where things get a little, ah, messy," Jeb sneered.

What the _hell_? Okay, Jeb was horrible. He'd always been that way—intrusive, bossy, and full of himself. But when had he ever turned to _violence_?

Suddenly I remembered what Paul had said the other night—_Iggy told me everything_.

Maybe Jeb hadn't been violent to me—but apparently he had been to others.

**SO! First question - what are your top three favourite books/book series? **

**Mine are Harry Potter, Hunger Games and Mamximum Ride :D**

**Tell me what yours are in a review.** **Thanks for reading!**


	9. Weird and slightly depressing Days

**Ahh! Sorry this chapter is so short and took ages!**

**There was a power cut where I live and we went camping, so I had no time to write D:**

**Anywho, I hope you enjoy it! I'm trying to get it moving along a bit - I estimate this story will be about a total of 30ish chapters. Maybe less. Maybe more! :D**

**Thanks,**

**Claire!**

**p.s - let me know if there's anything you wanna see happen in the next chappie!**

I needed answers.

Without thinking, I turned around and sprinted back into the house. It was stupid. Made me seem weak. But it was necessary.

I took the route to the spare room—where Iggy and Gazzy had been sleeping the past few nights. I wasn't surprised to find them both fast asleep.

"Ig, wake up." I shook Iggy's shoulders as he sleepily came to.

"What?" Iggy asked irritably, yanking his duvet back over his head and mumbling something about being tired.

My stomach twisted into knots as I heard shouting outside. I really didn't want anyone to get hurt—well, I didn't care if Jeb needed a trip to the hospital, but Fang and Paul had been so welcoming and kind …

"What did Paul mean when he said 'Iggy told me everything'?" I demanded, pulling the duvet back off his face.

"Can't this wait till morning?" Ig groaned, but I could tell he was purposely avoiding the subject.

"Stop being an idiot," I snapped. "This is _important_."

"Just stop it, Max. Go away."

By this time Gazzy had sleepily woken, and he looked at me with a confused expression, his hair sticking up in all directions like he'd been electrocuted.

"Max?" he mumbled confusedly.

"Go, uh, see Monique and Angel and Ella, okay, Gaz?" He nodded and left without another question. I loved that kid.

I turned to Iggy. Again he was buried beneath the blankets, only his strawberry blonde hair poking out.

"Come on, Ig. Jeb has gone and gotten himself a couple of thugs as bodyguards, and do you _really_ want anyone to get injured?"

I was getting annoyed. And when I'm annoyed, I get angry. And when I'm angry, well, let's not even go there.

"Okay, Max. What the hell do you even want?"

"I told you. Now answer," I growled loudly, probably sounding close to some sort of mountain lion.

Iggy turned a violent shade of red. Why was he freaking embarrassed at a time like this?

"God, Iggy. Just spit it out."

"You know that time? When you, Mum and Angel went to the zoo?" Iggy finally said after a deep sigh.

"When you and Jeb went to the soccer game or whatever a few years back?"

"Yeah. Well, turns out that Jeb had never even bought the tickets. Instead, he told me we were going to the park. So, we got in the car we stopped outside a jewellery shop. Obviously I was really confused. When I questioned why we were there, Jeb told me to go inside and take some of the necklaces and earrings and stuff. And, well, yeah."

"He told you to … steal?"

"Pretty much," Iggy shrugged, still looking a little embarrassed. "Then it moved onto more expensive stuff; iPhone's, laptops, you know. He stopped taking me last year, when I threatened to tell Mum and the police. Since then he's hated me. Plus it was hard for me to, you know, actually _find_ what I was stealing, because of, well, you know, me being blind and all."

"God, so he _wasn't_ abusing you?"

"Abusing me? Hell no! I could pummel that guy in two seconds." Iggy cracked up laughing, and I soon joined in.

Okay, stealing was bad. But nowhere near as bad as being abusive and violent.

"Wait," I said after a few moments of crazy laughter. I instantly grew serious. "Jeb has these, well, bodyguards. One of them had a knife."

"What? Seriously?" Iggy's face paled. "When Jeb was making me do his dirty work, he had a couple of big, burly guys who followed him everywhere. Derek and Shaun."

"Well, looks as though he's recruited them again."

"Crap." Iggy muttered, throwing back his duvet and leaping out of bed. He was wearing all the clothes he'd been wearing throughout the day—luckily he wasn't wearing his pyjamas, or else I might've been a little creeped out.

I was out of the room fast.

We skidded by Ella's room; all of them (Gazzy, Monique, Angel and Ella) were staring confusedly out the door, most likely disturbed by our mad rush to get out the house.

Okay, somehow I doubted Iggy and I could meander in and stop this whole 'argument', or whatever the heck you'd call it. But I knew that both of us were stronger than Jeb, and with the combined strength of us plus Paul and Fang … well, I still hadn't factored in the whole knife thing, but whatever. I acted on impulse.

"Um, Dad? Maybe we should call the police …" Fang's voice drifted in through the open door as Ig and I came to a halt and surveyed the scene before us.

The seriously over muscled dude with the knife was standing a little too close to Paul, while Jeb was smirking at his other 'friend'.

Jeb's face instantly sobered when he saw me and Ig. I couldn't tell if he was attempting another glare or if he was scared out of his wits. Well, if he wasn't scared yet he sure was gonna be soon.

"Max, Iggy, it isn't, ah, necessary for you to witness this," Jeb said in a fake sweet voice. He eyed Iggy a bit sceptically, as though he was certain Iggy had told about his stealing ways.

"Witness what?" I asked, mimicking his high-pitched tone. "You getting your ass kicked?"

"Now young lady, don't—"

"Hold on," I interrupted. "How _dare_ you try tell _me_ what to do, after you've been—"

"Uh, Max? Maybe we should just, er, stop all this …" it was Fang's turn to interrupt me.

I almost started shouting at him, but thought better of it.

"What do you want with us, anyway? You were _never_ there for us—even when Mum _died_. You're …" I tried to choose a perfect word to describe Jeb, but there were too many to choose from. Instead I just ended my sentence with a deathly glare.

"Well, there are plenty of things I could use you for! And _me_ not being there for you?" Jeb babbled idiotically, his face turning red. Even his cronies could tell he was bluffing.

"Shut up Jeb, just shut it. You want us to be your _slaves_ and steal things for you. I know, I'm not stupid. There is no way I'm letting that happen to Angel and Iggy. And not me, either."

Jeb was just about to give a mostly likely wimpy retort when there was the screeching sound of a garage door opening.

In less than two seconds later, a woman looked warily around the side of Jeb and his buddy that wasn't holding the knife.

"Paul?" She raised an eyebrow. "Um, I'm not sure who … these people are, but I've got a surprise!"

And with that she brought a squirming puppy dog from behind her and held it up for all to see.

"His names Total!" she exclaimed.

Okay, so I assumed this woman was Brigid. And she was holding a Scottie dog. Called Total.

Could this day get any weirder?

**Question time :D**

**What is your all time favourite movie?**

**Mine is /probably/ Phantom of The Opera. Runners up are all the Harry Potter movies, Percy Jackson aaaaannnnddd probably I Am Number Four (book is great, too!) :D**


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